


To Be Loved

by LadyWolf13



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Battle of Blackwater, Consensual Sex, Definitely lemony, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sandor, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, GoT, Lemon, Love, Love Story, Lust, One-Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sansa is wise beyond her years, Sansa sings for Sandor, Sex, Smut, Softer side of Sandor, Sweet Sandor, Virgin sex, acok, sansan, the hound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20216104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWolf13/pseuds/LadyWolf13
Summary: One-shot. What I think really should have happened the night of the Blackwater Battle ;) Sandor is emotional, gentle and loving - but still ultimately The Hound. Aged up Sansa if you will - she is wise beyond her years in this. Lots of smut of course...enjoy!





	To Be Loved

Sansa let out a shocked breath as she touched the wetness on his scarred cheek. It was definitely too thin to be blood, Sandor Clegane was crying. 

He had lifted the dagger from her throat, and sat back heavily on the bed. Sansa could hear his laboured breathing. All of a sudden she felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the man, the man who had never known love and a man who had been robbed of his childhood. People feared and resented him, his ugly scarring not helping the unfavourable hand he had been dealt in life. Sansa knew the story of his horrible older brother. She understood. 

They stayed like that for a long while, until she gently moved the hand that caressed his cheek, stroking away the tears that glistened there. The movement brought him out of his daze. Quick as a whip, he grabbed her hand with a giant fist, closing around it painfully. She let out a small squeak, taken aback by the sudden movement. Her pulse quickened, but she felt a courage building from somewhere deep within her. She was a wolf, a Stark of Winterfell. She would be brave, she knew deep down this man needed her. He needed to be shown love. Sansa wasn’t sure if she was the one to give it to him, but it felt like the right thing to do in this tender moment. 

Bringing up her other hand, she placed it on the other side of his face and drew her little body forward, coming to a rest on her knees before him. She could sense his whole body tense as he stilled completely. ‘I know you won’t hurt me, Sandor,’ she said quietly. ‘I know you don’t want to believe it...but you are good.’ 

He snarled at the words, throwing the hand he had tightly grasped away from him. She fell backwards on the bed, unable to stay upright from the sheer strength of him. 

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about girl. I’ve done things that would make your pretty skin crawl.’ As he spoke, his eyes lingered over her in the moonlight, and he slowly shifted his massive body over her on the bed. He loomed over her menacingly and lowered his head so it was within inches of hers. He breathed in deep, almost as if inhaling her scent. For a brief moment his eyes clouded over before cutting back to that sharp, steel gray. ‘I should fuck you until you’re bloody, how would you like that?’ He snarled at her, the bite in his tone making her breath hitch. ‘How good does that make me, eh?’ He pressed his huge body into her, his hot breath scratching against her ear. ‘Would I be one of your knights if I spread your legs and fucked you raw?’ 

Sansa whimpered at the harsh words, turning her head away. She blinked back tears, reminding herself that he did not really mean it, he wouldn’t actually do those things he said. This gave her strength, and she slowly turned her head back to look him directly in the eye. She saw his eyes widen in shock, and something else. A flicker of hope? 

Sansa lifted herself onto her elbows on the featherbed and lifted her chin to him, defiant. What was left of the gap between them significantly closed. She had no idea where she was getting this confidence from. Confidence, or madness? She couldn’t tell anymore. 

‘From what I’ve seen of the knights in King’s Landing, yes I believe that would make you a knight. But I know that you are not and you wouldn’t do that to me. I also know that somewhere in that thick skull of yours, you know you are better than your past actions.’ She was mad. No one in their right mind would speak to The Hound like this. 

There was a tense moment, where Sansa could almost feel him gritting his teeth together in a loathsome retort. But it didn’t come. Instead, he barked out a rough laugh as he rolled off her and laid bedside her on the bed. ‘So the little bird suddenly knows all the ways of the world, does she?’ He chuckled still. His tone was not condescending, there was a hint of proudness in his mirth. His body relaxed as his laughter subsided, and Sansa seized this opportunity to roll on her side to face him and continue with her mission. She wanted him to feel loved. 

Her heart was racing as she leaned over and planted a delicate kiss on the scarred side of his face. All signs of Sandor’s amusement vanished into shock. This didn’t deter Sansa as she kept going, planting kiss after kiss on his marred features. The skin felt so rough against her smooth lips, and she was enjoying the contrast. She was also enjoying how silent Sandor had fallen, it gave her the confidence she needed to complete her task. She liked the power she had over him in this moment. 

He eventually managed to break his shocked silence as she continued with her sweet pecks, both hands coming up to rest on his large chest. ‘The little bird really has spread her wings...you could barely look at this ugly dog a moons turn ago, and now this?’ He tried to whisper gently, but his voice was still as gravelly as rocks on steel. 

‘I was frightened of you. But it was never because of the scars. I like your scars. I like the stories you tell me. And I like...’ Sansa trailed off, blushing. 

‘Spit it out, girl,’ he growled as his mouth turned into something like a smile. He was clearly amused. 

‘I like how you saved me during the bread riots, and how you are always there when I need you. Even if there’s nothing you can do in front of Joffrey - you being there gives me strength.’ She had been talking to his mouth, but now she looked up at him with her piercing blue eyes. There was an unreadable expression in his dark eyes, joy mingled with guilt. 

‘Aye little bird, I saved you that day. But I did nothing while they beat you bloody and ripped your clothes off you. I stood there watching like a craven. I am a true dog, loyal to my sworn shield, no matter how vile a cunt he is.’ His features contorted as he spoke of the memory, and Sansa felt his body tense up once more. Before she could respond, he sat up quickly and rested against the headboard, letting her hands fall from his chest as he sat outside of her reach. ‘Yet even the most loyal of dogs, I couldn’t stay true tonight in the battle. The fire turned me craven once again. Bugger them all to seven hells, I am a worthless piece of shite,’ he spat bitterly, turning his head towards the window where bursts of green light filled the sky. 

Sansa couldn’t see him bare this pain anymore. She quickly sat up, and crawled into his lap, her bottom sliding over one of his bent, strong thighs. She blushed thinking of what her mother would say. It was certainly a wantoon position for an unwed woman flowered. She summoned her remaining strength to draw in her breath and begin a new song. This time, she leaned her head against his chest and reached up and stroked the back of his neck gently. 

As she sang, she felt his arms slowly curl around her, drawing her close to his chest. His breathing was ragged and shallow as she sang one of the most beautiful melodies she knew. She wanted to comfort him, and for him to know he was safe with her. As safe as he always made her feel. A particularly violent intake of breath and shudder in Sandor’s chest told her he was crying, a strangled sob escaping his throat. Sansa continued singing, but lifted her head from his chest and sat up straight in his lap. Perched on his thigh, she was almost level with his face as she gently pulled his head down to rest in the nook between her throat and chest. Sandor barely resisted, soaking the front of her dress with his tears as they flowed freely now. His entire body was racking with sobs, muffled from pressing himself into Sansa. Her gentle voice washed over him in song as she stroked his hair. His arms wrapped even tighter around her waist, as if to bring her body as close to his as possible. She shifted in his arms, and broke her song to gently kiss his the top of his head. It smelled of sweat and blood, but it did not matter. He was her warrior, and she had experienced worse things.

Slowly, Sandor’s sobs ceased and his breathing became deep and steady. He nuzzled against her neck, inhaling as he lightly pressed his lips to the soft skin above her collarbone. Sansa shivered, the sensation was intoxicating. She inhaled sharply as he continued this along the length of her neck, his warm breath giving her goosebumps over her entire body. She lost herself in the way his lips felt, her head tipping back as she moaned softly. This caused Sandor to growl as he lifted his head, his eyes now filled with a hungry lust. Suddenly he lowered the thigh she was perched on, causing her to fall lightly and further into his lap and she clutched both arms around his neck at the sudden movement. There was a split second where they locked eyes before all unleashed. Their lips locked in a passionate embrace, pressing together in desperate need. Both of their breathing became heavy as they tasted each other, Sandor’s tongue tentatively swirling into Sansa’s mouth as she met it with her own. 

Sandor’s huge hand grasped a fistful of her auburn curls as he deepened their kiss, tilting his head to the side. It was quickly getting out of control as Sansa’s legs swung around to accomodate his large body in between her thighs. Her skirts lifted in the process, leaving her exposed thighs open for Sandor to claim as he pressed his bulging manhood into the warmth between her legs. 

She was completely straddling him now, their lips still locked as she kept her arms wrapped around his neck. She was flushed, restless as she broke their kiss to stare at him with wild eyes. She was speechless. She had meant to console him, comfort him...she never thought it would get this heated this quick. She shifted in his lap, and let out a little mewl as she felt his manhood pressed against her soaked smallclothes. She bit her lip with half lidded eyes as Sandor gritted his teeth and gripped one of her thighs, the other on her hip keeping her steady. 

‘You’re really testing me here, little bird.’ His voice seemed strained. Sansa cocked her head coyly, confused. His strong hold on her hip and thigh prevented her from moving.  
‘In what way?’ She asked breathlessly. There was an ache building between her thighs and she needed friction to ease it, but she tried to banish the thought from her head. This was about him, she was comforting him. 

Sandor looked at her incredulously. ‘What way do you think?’ He said sarcastically, and by way of an answer he thrust his hips upwards, eliciting an lustful cry from Sansa’s lips as she felt how thick and hard he was between her. 

‘I-I’m sorry,’ she gasped. Sandor had reached his head forward and was sucking at the light material that covered her nipple, which went instantly hard in his warm mouth. She could barely think let alone talk. ‘I was...was just trying to h-help you...show you that you are l-loved.’ Sandor’s other hand came up to cup the remaining breast, and he chucked as he said roughly ‘Is that so? Well I’m rather enjoying this help then, little bird.’ Sansa had never seen or heard him be so peaceful. He seemed happy and content, and that made her heart soar. 

Without warning, he impatiently stated ‘you’re wearing too much clothing,’ and proceeded to pull down her bare shouldered dress in one quick, swift movement. Her breasts were now completely exposed, the dress bunched around her waist. 

Chest heaving, Sansa watched Sandor’s eyes roam over her nakedness, a great look of longing cast over his features, his mouth slightly open. She did not have overly large breasts, but they were soft and supple, and she could cup them in her hands in a decent handful. Her nipples were pink and hard in the cool hair, aching for the warm of his mouth. 

‘You are so beautiful, little bird,’ he murmured. Sansa felt a jolt of pleasure straight to her netherregions from the use of that nickname when he was looking at her like this. He lowered his mouth to one of her teats and slowly licked the nipple, encircling it with his tongue before drawing it into his wet, warm mouth. He continued suckling at her, hands moving to either side of her waist as if to arch as much of her body forward for him to taste. His breathing had picked up again as he hungrily moved to the other breast, working his mouth over her sweet little buds. 

Sansa was panting by this stage. She needed to feel more of him, and arched her back. Her hands rested on either of his shoulders as she moaned loudly. ‘S-Sandor please...’ 

‘What is it, Sansa?’ He smirked, pulling his mouth away from her teat, but looking back at it lustfully as if he regretted the decision. 

‘I need...it aches...’ she began, unable to string anymore words together but her hips jerked uncontrollably against his groin. The movements were erratic and in vain however, and she sighed frustrated, unable to ease the ache she so desperately wanted. Sandor let out a shaky breath and leaned back once more. His hands slid down her waist to rest on her hips, his hands so large they were able to cup a little bit of her bottom as well. Her skirts had completely bunched up, leaving her exposed over his groin in just her silk smallclothes. 

‘You helped me little bird...it is only fair that I now help you.’ He gripped her hips a little tighter, making them move forward and grind her throbbing mound against him. His hands were so strong, and he seemed to know exactly what she needed. She let out a strangled moan, taken aback by the sudden pressure on her sensitive nub and how good it felt. ‘That’s it girl...keep grinding your sweet little cunt like that on me. You’ll soon be singing another pretty song.’ The Hound grunted as she rocked harder, her juices soaking through the smallclothes as she rubbed along the length of his hardness. 

‘Mmmm..you’re a quick learner, little bird.’ He hissed, barely able to get the words out in his state of arousal. He was meeting her rocking now, ensuring her little mound was positioned directly over his cock so she could find her pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was becoming wild as she gripped his shoulders tightly, each movement bringing her closer to her release. She crashed her lips onto his, feeling such raw emotion wash over her as her orgasm filled her, she felt fulfilled for the first time since reaching King’s Landing. She gave a muffled cry as she rode out the sensations on his shaft, her wetness now all over the front of his breeches. He kissed her just as passionately back, reciprocating the raw emotion that was felt between the two of them. It was electric and fierce, and they both needed this outlet to share their pain. 

Unable to support her legs and shaking uncontrollably from her pleasure, Sansa broke the kiss fell lightly backwards into the bed, feeling giddy. A small, shy smile crept over her lips as she looked upon Sandor’s face. He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark as he stared at her, to the front of his now soaked breeches, and back to her. ‘Seven hells, little bird...’ he growled, his voice thick with lust. 

As a way of response, Sansa slowly lowered her smallclothes to her ankles and kicked them away, never breaking eye contact. It occurred to her again where in the seven she was getting this boldness from. She slowly spread open her thighs, revealing her glistening mound to him. 

The Hound was practically drooling by this stage. A look of concern flashed over his face however as he said ‘Sansa - I can’t do that to you. I -‘

‘I want you to Sandor. I want you to make love to me. I want you to feel loved.’ 

He looked extremely torn from her words, as if he scarcely dared to believe it. Sandor hesitated, licking his lips absentmindedly as he looked down between her thighs once more. Sansa giggled, and reached forward to grab his hand to slowly guide him down to her. Sandor breathed out a sigh of relief as he watched her face and settled himself between her thighs. He kissed her slowly, with a gentleness she never knew he could possess. It was his turn to shower her with kisses, and he planted them gently all over her face and neck, making his way down to her breasts. 

Sansa let out a content moan as he took one in his mouth again, this time somehow with more affection. His hand slowly slid down to her lower lips, parting them as he gently rubbed her mound. The shock of the direct contact made Sansa gasp and press herself into his hand, and he let out a low groan as he slipped a finger inside of her wetness. ‘Gods, Sansa,’ was all he could manage as her tightness squeezed around his finger. She encouraged him by thrusting her hips forward, wanting more. He slipped in another finger and she let out a small whimper at the pain from being expanded. 

He froze. ‘Are you okay?’ He questioned, searching her face for any sign of pain. His tenderness and care was enough to make Sansa reach forward and pull him into another deep kiss. She hoped this was enough answer for him. He slowly moved his fingers in and out of her, her tightness stretching slowly over his fingers, his thumb pressing and rubbing over her increasingly sensitive nub. The pain quickly subsided, and soon she was panting in his ear letting out soft little moans with each time he pushed his fingers back inside of her. 

‘Fuck, little bird. I think you’re ready for me.’ He grunted as he unlaced his breeches. His cock was swollen with ache and the tip was dripping with his arousal. He growled as he took himself in hand, and looked back at her. She could tell it took all his restraint to kiss her lightly and say ‘we still don’t have to do this. I can finish myself off and still die a happy man from what you have given me tonight.’

She pouted in response, which earned her a cheeky grin from the unburned side of his face. ‘So the little high born lady wants to be taken by this ugly dog? Truly?’ Sansa sighed in impatience and knocked his hand away from his manhood, taking it upon herself to grab its thickness and guide him down to rest just outside of her dripping folds. He laughed out loud at that, but it quickly turned a grunt as the tip of his penis became drenched in her fluids. He leaned down and kissed her fiercely and in one quick thrust, he sheathed himself inside of her. Sansa’s gasp was captured by his lips as he returned to rubbing her sensitive little nub, as if to distract her from the searing pain from his shaft. He was definitely a large man, and Sansa could feel the hard proof of that now inside her. 

Sandor was extremely still as he kissed her gently, allowing her to adjust to his size. Even rubbing her little bud was in slow, circular movements. He didn’t want to cause her anymore pain than necessary, as tempting as it was to completely unleash himself on her and fuck her madly. Slowly, the pain subsided and Sansa thrust her hips upwards in silent approval for him to move inside of her, letting out a little moan as she did so. He tentatively pulled himself out of her warmth, only to slide right back in, a growl escaping his lips as he did so. He couldn’t believe how tight her little cunt was. And that she was giving it to him. Her love was all for him. The thought drove him to pump himself faster into her wetness as he sat up slightly on his knees. The new position allowed him to thrust into her deeper, and they groaned in unison at the new sensation. As he slammed into her Sansa lifted her hips up to match him, and the slapping sound of her drenched cunt as he fucked her was too much. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with her breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts and the sounds she was making. 

Sandor reached down and cupped her cheek, locking eyes with her as a sheen of sweat covered his chest and muscular arms. She held his gaze, looking at him lovingly with a cheeky smile as he continued pumping into her. He was going to explode inside of her right there and then just from that look. All of sudden, she turned her head and took his thumb in her mouth, tasting herself. She sucked on it lightly, letting out a small moan and she closed her eyes and flicked her tongue over the tip. Sandor had not been expecting that. This time he really did explode, his seed spilling inside her wet, warm cunt in pulsating waves as she continued to suck on his finger. Her eyes were now open, watching him as he rode out his orgasm. ‘Fuck, Sansa..’ was all he could manage as he collapsed on top of her, careful not to crush her with his full weight. 

‘How did that feel?’ Sansa asked shyly as she traced a finger along his back. 

Coming down from his orgasm, the emotions hit him all at once as he chuckled lowly. He sighed contently, smiling into Sansa’s neck like a green boy. 

‘Like I was the most loved man in the world.’


End file.
